


Fade Out (Again)

by Yeb_v3



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Big angst, Final Thoughts, Hearing Voices, M/M, implied saiouma, pretty weird tbh, sad boy is dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeb_v3/pseuds/Yeb_v3
Summary: The thousands of voices swirling through Ouma Kokichi’s head in his final moments.





	Fade Out (Again)

**Author's Note:**

> I just kinda had the urge to write something angsty, so here it is!!
> 
> Regular bandmates content to resume soon!!!

‘This machine will not communicate  
These thoughts and the strain I am under  
Be a world child, form a circle  
Before we all go under  
And fade out again and fade out again’

 

“-crush you where you lie.”

The press spoke to him. It was the final moments of Ouma Kokichi’s life and he had finally lost it. Gone off the deep end at last. After many years of mindless torture from every possible side, his weak head had finally ( _figuratively, literally would come shortly _) caved in. The voices of fear, misery and self hatred had culminated in a deep shaking voice rising from deep within the droning machine he lay in the arms of. It cradled him, it whispered sweet tragedies into his bloodied mind.__

__“Be quiet now, silence. Now it's almost over, it’s all almost over…”_ _

__Maybe it really was the voice of a crumbling machine god comforting a child in the final minute. Or was Momota shouting a final few mocking obscenities veiled as kind words? ( _oh momota never change even in their final moments you can't let a poor disgusting child weep in peace _)  
Or perhaps it was from the inside, one of the many swirling voices that clawed, crying, screaming for release, a tornado of tortured voices that wept, mocked, narrated and theorised in unison, all to the unbearably melancholy tune of scraping metal and encroaching death. But for now, and until his grave, he found it easiest to just think it was the press.___ _

____He didn't question how weird it was, or that the voice sounded like his own, his father's, his best friend, his worst enemy, his lover and a stranger at the same time. It was the blood loss probably, making him hear the words of everyone he has disappointed, all at once. Did he ever know his father? No, but did that really matter when in the jaws of death? Had he ever had a real friend? The answer again was no. None of this made any sense, and he knew that. But still his confusion just grew and grew and grew and gre-_ _ _ _

____“Shut up. You’re rambling.”_ _ _ _

____Cut off by the grumbling voice, for once Ouma’s thoughts ceased._ _ _ _

____“You’ve thought about this before, haven't you? Your inevitable, tragic end?” it’s dragon tongue rasped._ _ _ _

____Ouma’s vocal chords began to move in an attempt to form a response, but he found himself silenced by the deep voice in his ear._ _ _ _

____“Hey now, don’t try to speak, wouldn’t want to waste any energy, final breaths take a lot out of you, y'know.”_ _ _ _

____He could hear how the voice practically smirk._ _ _ _

____“After all, there is no talking needed. I am you after all, you really think hydraulic presses can talk? Who knows? You are a liar, after all…”_ _ _ _

____With these words, sharp blades of pain slithered slits slyly down each limb of his crumbling body. That would be the poison. Or the gaping holes in his back. Or maybe even the repeated realisation of his mortality. One of those three, pick whichever you want to believe. It caused a choked gasp and a sputter of blood to rise from his cracked lips. The deep red liquid ( _hang on, wasnt that meant to be pink? _) pathetically dribbled down his cheek, a sad pool of something that really should stay on the inside. Another pained whine came out from his mouth.___ _ _ _

______“Awwww, is little baby in pain? Does he want to die? Why don’t you get on and fucking do it, worm.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The voice spat, and these very words made Ouma come to his senses, out of the death induced fever dream he had found himself trapped in. He could tell that the venomous language it spoke came from within himself, mainly because he thought of himself exactly in that way. A useless worm, a baby, a child who needs to just get on and die. And maybe that time had come._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh? You think you have me figured out? Well done! I am you! I am! No, really, this is just some strange way of visualising and coming to terms with your life in the last few moments of it.” it carried on maliciously.  
“And because you are me, and i am you, you know exactly what follows that. That was just a lie! You should see the confused look on y(our) face, it really is hilarious!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He didn't know what to think anymore. Good thing that he didn’t have to do it for much longer. He could feel death, its blue hands touching him, every inch of his body slowly being swallowed up by a creeping feeling of conclusion. What would that conclusion be, exactly? He promised himself he wouldn't do this, made a promise to the bright parts of his mind that he would pay it no thoughts, and just let the pitch black death wash over him, not dwelling on the gory details. But here he was, dwelling on the gory details._ _ _ _ _ _

______What would it look like? The sight of a body, crushed. Would his bones splinter? Would they crack in every place? A fine dust, maybe. And what of his flesh, his muscles? Would paste or mush be a more fitting descriptor for his state? No that it matters, a corpse is a corpse, no matter what condition it ends up in. ( _would he be buried in a coffin or a jar? would anyone even bother burying him? the thought of a jar was kind of funny to him _)  
No willpower was left to drive these forbidden thoughts out of his head, the strangely calm voice just listed off the disgusting words from inside his skull. The poison spread further. He couldn't feel either of his legs.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s almost time! Are you excited? Are you excited? Are you excited?” the repetition was a drill boring one last hole into Ouma’s head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It’s (his) words futhered thin, dividing lines which ran down the four sides of his glass box head, which secured his tin can brain ( _tin can? tin can? hard to get into without the right tools, fit a lot inside, maybe that's what it means? who cares, death bed metaphors always lack clarity _). Each syllable, a hammer smash to one of the four sides, one after another. They would further the paper thin, razor sharp fractures in the structure. And the final blow was to be a slab of very hard, very cold metal.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“One single button press! That’s all it takes! I can’t wait, i can hardly contain my excitement!” the voice just carried on and on, he had given up trying to figure out it’s truth, it was most likely coming from inside himself, but who was to say what was really happening? Certainly not Ouma, he hadn't had contact with any truth for many forsaken years._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Any last words? Any last thoughts? Want to say something to the spaceman? Something to me? Something to your little detective boyfriend?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The voice became very distant. The dark became very close. This was it. The moment Ouma Kokichi gives up on life. He tuned out the mocking that rattled inside his skull, and relaxed every inch of his being. Grey eyelids slowly shuttered in the last movement of a tortured soul._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“One last thing before you (we) exit from this ever cruel life.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Lost in the sea of noises, the footsteps of the reaper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Your lies have got you here. One after another they piled up. And now you are here. The weight of these mistakes hang over you, just as the rope snaps. They get closer in their fall, and eventually they will crush you where you lie.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And like that, it's all ove-_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!!
> 
> (I’ve been listening to too much Radiohead..)


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